


Welcome Home

by satanfish (mjindra9)



Series: Songs of Innocence and Experience [2]
Category: Spooks | MI-5
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-01
Updated: 2017-12-01
Packaged: 2019-02-08 23:20:19
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 662
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12875205
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mjindra9/pseuds/satanfish
Summary: Lucas and Elizabeta go for a walk and Elizabeta convinces Lucas into participating in mildly illegal activities. Set before the events of Spooks.





	Welcome Home

“Please?” Elizabeta asked Lucas.

Lucas bit his lip, glancing down the street. If Harry knew he was even _considering_ this, he’d have Lucas’ credentials. Or, worse, put him on desk duty for the next month. Section Chief or not, Lucas, of all people, should not be caught performing unauthorized break-ins, _especially_ on a civilian’s whim, even if the civilian in question _did_ have an adorable accent and was his fiancée.

There was no one on the street at this hour. It was late, well past when Lucas would normally have gone to bed, but Vyeta had wanted to go for a walk and Lucas still hadn’t quite figured out how to tell her no. He suspected that there would be no one at the windows, either. The sky was clouded and, if he had to guess, snow would be coming soon. For now, it was just cold and wet, both of which usually meant that people were snug inside their warm beds and not watching a couple walk down the street ridiculously late at night.

When he seemed to be wavering with indecision, Vyeta grabbed his hands and stood on her toes to kiss his cheek. “Please? No one will know,” she said.

 _Harry’s bloody psychic. He’ll find out_. Lucas wasn’t sure how Harry would find out, but the man would find a way, Lucas was sure. Still, he found himself smiling as he shook his head. “Fine,” he said and pulled his lockpicking set out of his coat pocket. It took him a few seconds to pick the lock and, when he stepped back to open the door, Elizabeta hugged him from behind. She pressed her face against the side of his arm for a brief moment and, even as Lucas was lifting his own hands to return the hug, she was darting around him to go inside. Still smiling, Lucas slipped inside and shut the door quietly behind him, lest the neighbours decide to call the police.

The house was void of life and furniture and both his and Elizabeta’s footsteps echoed in the empty home. Lucas ran his fingers along the wall, noting the flowered wallpaper that reminded him of his grandmother, who was an avid fan of Morris. _Thank God I only had to visit her a handful of times_. He wasn’t sure he could handle his grandmother reading him _News from Nowhere_ again without wanting to hit his head against the same wallpaper that Morris had designed.

“Lucas,” Elizabeta called from the area Lucas supposed was once the living room.

Leaving the kitchen, Lucas made his way to the living room and leaned against the entryway, watching his fiancée move about the room. What little light shone through the windows, bereft of curtains, lit up Elizabeta, highlighting the brown in her dark hair. She looked beautiful during the day when her dark eyes were alight with eagerness as they had shopped. He remembered thinking that only Vyeta could make Christmas shopping remotely bearable. But now? Now she looked _stunning_ , her face open and excited as she flitted gracefully about. It made him smile. Where he was often guarded and stoic, she was full of life and passion, and he couldn’t help but admire her openness, her sheer love for being alive. _God, I love her_.

Elizabeta stopped by the window and looked at him over her shoulder. “Isn’t this perfect?” she asked, smiling almost shyly at him.

Lucas pushed off the door jamb and moved to hug her from behind. He had to stoop slightly to press his cheek against the side of her head. Softly, and in her native tongue, Lucas recited into her ear, “ _She walks in beauty, like the night…_ ”

“ _Your Russian is getting better_ ,” she said, smiling as her hands covered his around her waist. “ _I almost thought you grew up speaking it_.”

He chuckled. “Welcome home, Vyeta,” Lucas murmured, kissing the side of her head softly. “Tomorrow, we can even enter _legally_.”

**Author's Note:**

> This was a drabble I wrote for a tumblr prompt. Figured I'd share it over here because I live for Lucas/Elizabeta. Unbeta'd, so any mistakes are my own.
> 
> The poem Lucas quotes is "She Walks in Beauty" by Lord Byron.


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